


Someone to Lean on

by Tommyboy



Category: The Monkees
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-04
Updated: 2011-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-20 03:03:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommyboy/pseuds/Tommyboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in 2001, for a yahoo group StoryBookMonkees.  Revisiting my archived stories on my computer.</p><p>In allowance that they are touring this summer for the 45th anniversary.</p><p>Bear in mind, it's fic that posted over 10 years ago.  But it's a nice story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone to Lean on

Someone To Lean on

It had been a long week.

‘A long week of hell’ Mike thought.

Monday started out as usual, trying to find a gig for the next weekend for the band to play at. He started making the rounds in his calls trying to find a venue to book them. That was accomplished on Wednesday. He got them booked to play Thursday, Friday and Saturday at Martini’s, a small club near the strip.

Tuesday he had to be the zoo keeper. Davy and Micky were having in out about a girl that they both liked. The arguments went on all day.

Wednesday morning, Peter had turned up missing. They searched till four and found in sitting in the park watching the children play. He lost all track of time.

Thursday the band rehearsed then loaded the car to go to Martini’s. Thursday was a long day.

The first night went well, considering the crowd was thin, being a Thursday night. The band worked on the glitches of the new stage and sound system. There were several people who stayed for both sets, listening and dancing. It was 2:00 A.M. when they got home to the pad.

Friday. Mike woke at ten. He looked to see that Micky had gotten up. He usually only slept four to six hours. He probably was hitting the waves. Mike looked up at the ceiling.

It had been a long week.

Begrudgingly he got up and got his things to take a shower.

They drove to Martini’s to perform. The first set went well. They are a 45 minute break before having to start the next set.

Davy had already eyed a girl in the crowd and was talking with her. Peter went off to tune his banjo that he swore was not in tune. Micky mingled with a group of girls sitting at two tables pushed together.

Mike walked over to the bar and ordered a strong drink. He needed something to loosen him up.

While sitting on the bar stool, a man came up to him.

“Nice sound.”

Mike not thinking to hard said, “Thanks”

“I like the country influence,” he told Mike.

Mike looked over to him.

He was Mike’s height and build, tall and slender. But his hair was blond and had a lucky go smile to his face. There was something though, underlying his carefree facade.

“Thanks again.”

“Don’t mention it.” He gestured to the stool next to Mike. Mike nodded, letting him know it was free.

“Quite a crew you have there,” gesturing to Mike’s band mates.

“Tell me about it.” Mike half laughed, again remembering his past week’s problems.

The blond ordered a beer and asked “Want a drink.”

“A beer.” Mike answered.

“My name is Greg.” He said, holding out his hand.

“Mike,” he replied.

“You seemed a bit preoccupied.”

“Just trying to wind down from a long week, that’s all.”

Greg nodded in understanding. “I can dig it.”

They sat there making small chat till Micky came up. “Five minutes,” he told Mike.

Mike nodded then turned to Greg, “Thanks for conversation. It’s been awhile.”

“I’ll stay for the show. Maybe afterwards you and I can continue.”

It sounded good to Mike. He needed a change of pace from the guys. They were his friends, but you sometimes needed a change of pace. “I think I’ll do that.”

The second show again went well. The club had filled to capacity. The Monkees played several additional songs.

It was 1:00 a.m. before they got off the stage.

After securing their instruments, Mike turned to the guys. “You go on home. I’m staying for a while. I’ll be home later.”

They looked at each other. “What’s up?” asked Micky.

“Nothing much, not ready to go home yet,” he told them.

Mike turned and walked off to the club. Greg had kept to his word. He was at the bar.

“You want to stay here or go for a walk,” he asked.

“A walk sounds good.”

They went out the front door of the club. The rest of the Monkees had gone out the back and were pulling away to go home.

Greg and Mike walked a few blocks.

They talked about many things. Mike liked talking to him. Greg kept his mind off things that usually nagged him.

They stopped in front of some stairs that led up to apartments above some businesses.

“Want a night cap. I live here.” Greg told him.

Mike nodded and went upstairs.

They entered a small apartment. The main room housed a table with two chairs, a couch with a coffee table in front of it, two tall lamps and two bookcases that held many records and books.

“Sit down. I’ll get us some beer.”

Instead of sitting, Mike looked at the books Greg had. Many authors Mike knew and read himself.

Greg returned with a cold beer.

Mike now sat down on the couch.

“You look better.” Greg commented.

“I feel better. It’s nice talking about something different for once.”

“You seem to have needed a little time away.”

Mike nodded, “don’t get me wrong. I like the guys and all, it’s just I take care of them. Who takes care of me?” Mike asked, closing his eyes for a minute.

Mike felt two hands on his shoulders, massaging them. Mike knew it was Greg. It felt good. Thought it odd that a man was massaging his shoulders but it felt good.

“Did you ever take the time to let one of them take care of you Mike?” Greg asked. He moved his hands down Mike’s back, hitting spots along his spine.

Mike relished the feeling.

Then to his left ear a warm breath, a kiss to his neck.

Mike knew he should question it, but it felt good.

Greg moved away, he came around the couch and returned to face Mike. “If you don’t want to, I would understand.”

Mike shook his head.

Greg knelt down in front of Mike and brought Mike’s face forward for a kiss. Greg broke the kiss and pushed Mike back against the sofa. Greg worked the buttons of his Red shirt and opened it up. Greg glided his hand down Mike’s bare chest. Then Greg started on the button’s of Mike’s jeans.

Greg worked the jeans and boxers down. Mike sat partially naked before Greg.

Greg took his hand and held Mike’s manhood which was getting hard. Greg squeezed and jerked it.

Mike’s eyes closed.

Mike felt lips to his nipple, laving it then playing with the nub then a small taste. Mike tried to suppress a groan but Greg heard it.

Greg went to work on the other nipple, repeating what he had just done to the first.

Mike sat there, taking it in. ‘Let someone take care of me for once,’ he thought.

Greg still held him in his hand. Greg worked his mouth down Mike’s chest, stomach, to his groin. Then he took Mike in his mouth. Mike gasped. Greg took him deep. Greg’s mouth sucked in then moved, giving Mike a blow job.

Mike could feel his body wanting to come closer to release. Mike placed his hand on Greg’s head to pull him closer, wanting it. Mike’s hips started to move up to each pull, wanting more.

Soon Mike came, spilling into Greg’s mouth. Mike kept moving, not wanting to leave the euphoria of his release.

Then it was over. Spent, Mike was glad he was sitting.

Greg moved back, then stood.

Mike watched Greg.

Greg went to another room. Mike could hear water being ran. He returned with a washcloth and cleaned off Mike.

Greg had Mike stand and helped him pull up his boxers and jeans, and helped button up his shirt and tucked it into his jeans.

Mike looked confused to Greg.

“Why?”

“You needed it.” Greg answered. “You needed someone to lean on. Or at least someone to take care of you.”

Mike stepped toward Greg and pulled him into an embrace. Mike laid his head on Greg’s shoulder and stood there enjoying the strength Greg offered.

Finally Mike pulled away. Mike didn’t want to say thanks. ‘How can you say thanks to someone who just gave you the best blow job you ever had?’

“I’ll see you around.” Greg told him. “If you ever need to talk, you know where I live,” he offered.

“I may take you up on that.” Mike told him.

Mike went down the stairs and made note of where Greg lived. Mike headed back to the strip. He could get a ride from there toward home.

Mike got in at 4:00 A.M.

Mike woke at noon. For the first time that week, Mike smiled up at the ceiling.


End file.
